The Poisoned Child
by KousukeKugimiya
Summary: Nina desires to know why people do the things they do, though she doesn't understand her own self. She lives to serve under the spiteful hand of Judge Turpin, but after meeting Anthony Hope and Toby Ragg, her life of unrequited longing changes forever.R
1. Misunderstood

**Notes by the author: GAH. Haven't been in a flowing, nice writing mood in a while. But I had a need to write this down... excuse the childishness of the words. For some reason I had a hard time getting my thoughts down into words... but anyway, this is one of my first Sweeney Todd fanfics. It features the confused female servant of Judge Turpin who's horrific childhood causes her to think differently than the rest of world around her. Her strange love and affection for the Judge Turpin slowly changes as she meets Anthony Hope and Tobias Ragg, and later Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney Todd. Kind of another character who needs to figure out their life and make sense of their surroundings. Chapter One is a terrible job on my part, I just can't seem to "open up" the story. Chapter Two will be better, I assure.**

**I do not own any of the Sweeney Todd characters of course, or the plot. I am just inserting my own character (Nina) into the plot... into which.... that.... I do not.... own.**

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**Chapter One -- Misunderstood**

_"He killed him... he killed him..."_ she wouldn't stop repeating herself. Breathless gasps and uncontrollable sobs filled the room with unwanted noise, and it took all the strength I had to keep from losing my calm demeanor.

"No. No, he didn't kill him." I replied for the third time, running my fingers through the blonde girl's hair like I thought a mother would. It didn't seem to help.

The pale-faced Johanna looked up at me with those striking blue eyes, tears giving her cheeks a shiny glow before the candlelight.

She broke free from my grasp, staring at the carpeted floor with a haunted look on her face. I sighed a slow breath, my lip quivering with suppressed grief. I clutched my hands into fists, finding it difficult to keep from crying myself, though I wish I could. But I knew that shedding even one tear would send Johanna into a heightened fear, and at which I did not feel any energy to reassure her any further.

Relaxed by the sudden silence, I glanced hopefully at Johanna. To my dismay, tears were still running down her face and dripping off her chin.

Silently.

"Please, miss. I was there. Master Turpin did not kill the boy..." I said, reminiscing on the dreadful event that occured earlier that day. That sailor boy with the long brown hair and the tattered clothing who came by the mansion this morning. From what I gathered, he was taking a peek at Johanna and was punished severely for it. Beaten to the ground by the Beadle's cane. Bright rubies glistened on the stone ground that escaped from his mouth, frightening me to no end. I've heard of the Master and the Beadle murdering men for a cause, but never before had I witnessed it.

No, no. The boy didn't die. Nevertheless, I feared for the inevitable future.

"But you said the Beadle was after him with the club!" she cried. I silenced her by gently placing a hand over her mouth.

"Quiet, miss. You realize I'm supposed to be in bed!" I hissed. "And yes, the Beadle did beat him. But he didn't kill 'im."

She nodded, but I wasn't quite sure if she understood. I shook my head slightly, exhausted and wishing for some sleep. But, alas, I could not leave Johanna with bad thoughts on her mind.

"Besides," I attempted to break the distressing silence, "what have you got to think 'bout him anyway? He's only a sailor. He's got nothing to do with any of us."

Her face changed dramatically. Her lips bent into a frown and her eyes closed. Her eyebrows were pulled down in a frustrated manner, and the way she spoke provoked my heart to beat quickly.

"Of course not. No one outside of this stupid place means anything to me." she stood up and snatched down her bedsheets, angrily preparing herself for sleep. I stood and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, yet she pulled away.

"Johanna, please. I didn't mean it that way - "

"But it's true." she turned to face me, her eyes wide and fearful. She stood at least six inches taller than me, so I had to raise my head to look into those eyes.

"London does not know me, and I do not know London. I only know this place." she bit her lip and then lay in the bed, waving a hand for me to leave.

I knew what she said was true, but I thought that it was something to be proud of. I took the candle into my hands, bid her good night, and left her room. I was now finally free to feel my sad emotions, but they were now stagnant. My mind was now clouded with confusion.

I did not understand why a person who could have anything, anything they wanted, appreciated nothing.


	2. Change

_I'm dreading something. But what is it I have to dread?_

My chest felt extremely heavy under the weight of some obscure depression, an unnatural feeling rising in my throat. I furrowed my brow as I tried to think of why I should be feeling this way. Yet nothing has changed; The only thing that happened was when the sailor intruded our home.

My feet ached as I leaned against a hot range mixing around some porridge in a large pot. I hummed quietly, my shaking hand flying around the pot due to my lack of attention.

_It hurts. Why do I feel so miserable this morning? Was it the lack of sleep?_

I shrieked as the pot I mishandled fell to the floor and hot porridge splattered itself all over my biege dress. I stepped back awkwardly, staring down at the chaos below me.

The stone floor was dressed up in a disasterous layer of food, and the whole of my skirt was now sticky with butter and grain.

"Very nice job, I must say." spoke a sneering voice entering the kitchen doorway. His boots clunked over beside me and he laughed a loud, nasally laugh.

I looked over spitefully to see his ratlike face and plump body, his brown, dusty vest and his large black overcoat seemingly accenting his affront.

"Thank you, sir." I muttered bitterly and reached down to place the pot into the sink. He laughed again, clutching onto his cane in an acrimonious manner. He stood silently, watching me with his small, beetle-like eyes and smiling smugly as I rinsed the pot and snatched a dishrag from the towel rack. I strutted over to the mess on the floor, accidentally bumping into him on my way there.

He grabbed my shoulder and chuckled, "Watch your step."

I gave him another malevolent look, returning to the floor. His oily face smiled in satisfaction and he opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by another's voice.

"Beadle Bamford, we've not time to waste. We have - "

My heart somehow stopped. All feeling was gone. I looked up with wide eyes at the judge. And though he stared up and down at with disgust, my spirit seemed to leap out of my body like air.

"What... what's this mess?" he questioned. He raised one grey eyebrow and his eyes glazed over the scene like he suddenly became bored. I swallowed and looked up at Mr. Bamford, who laughed once more.

"Whifling little twit dropped her breakfast, Sir." Mr. Bamford grinned, tapping lightly on my leg with his club.

The Judge nodded slowly, not seeming to care about what had happened. "Yes, well, clean it up." he ordered. I immediatly obeyed, continuing my work without question.

"Come, Beadle." Judge Turpin nodded to Mr. Bamford, who gave me another light tap on the shoulder with his club before walking out of the room.

I looked up at Mr. Turpin, who pointed at me simply, seemingly trying to remember something he was going to say to me.

I felt my heart leap again, and I blushed. I hated the way I felt when I became like this, but I couldn't contain myself.

"You. Find something else to wear immediately. You're coming with me later after court, so be prepared." he told me. I blushed harder, nodding.

But then I frowned.

"Sir, I apologize, but this is the only dress I own." I bit my lip, expecting him to lose his temper or become angry. His face changed to that sort of expression, but only for a second.

"I see. Well, then..." he thought for a moment, causing an uncomfortable silence.

My heart jumped when he spoke again, "Come with us now, then. You can pick out some material and I'll buy it for you."

I wanted to smile, but I couldn't. "But what of Johanna's breakfast - "

"She's asleep for the moment. It seems she's been up too late..." he gave me that look. The same look he gives when he's either suspicious or contemptuous.

I was sure he knew I was in Johanna's bedroom last night, but I was only too happy for the present to feel too ashamed.

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you." I smiled at him, but he only turned away and left the room, telling me to hurry up.

I worked faster than I ever had in my life.

---

I couldn't stop smiling. I felt like a foolish little child who was given a hundred new dolls. I felt like I was on a cloud, waving to everyone below. I clutched tightly to my new clothing material, rubbing my face in it and laughing like some senile lunatic.

It was a deep purple, and the cotton feel stretched so nicely. The black designs of a peculiar shape weren't entirely noticable, but accented the piece so perfectly I could almost cry. I sniffed it. It smelled so fresh... so clean.

It didn't matter to me how I looked at the moment. I was exhilrated; Happy to be alive.

_Master Turpin bought me a new dress._ I thought over and over, my stomach fluttering with joy each time repeated.

I wished I had brought my sewing kit with me, for sitting outside on the steps of the courthouse soon became boring. But I couldn't have been happier. Even in this bitter cold.

Until I thought of Johanna.

_She must be hungry. _I thought. My best bet was that she would be fine, but I still worried about her. I knew she was still depressed about that sailor boy, but I couldn't help but be happy about my day.

_Shame. Think of Johanna._ My happiness soon became guilt as I thought of the round, girlish face frowning upon the world in her sadness. I sighed heavily, wishing she could just be happy for once.

My shame soon changed back into zeal as the Judge and the Beadle came walking out of the courthouse along with some more blokes.

I stood up and wiped down my dusty dress, though it wouldn't have made any difference to anyone. I still had a spill of disgusting, dried porridge on the front of my skirt.

I walked up behind the two men, who were about to depart. I was eager to walk home with Master Turpin, but suddenly, finishing a conversation they were having, he said, "Walk home with me."

I tried very hard to keep from groaning.

Nevertheless, I felt lighter than air with my new, purple cotton cloth. I carried the judge's briefcase and items without complaint and stepped closely behind the two men.

Their large boots clunked roughly against the cobblestone street, Mr. Bamford's cane clicking along in rhythm. I glanced around at the men and women around me. Smiles were not present on anyone's face. I frowned slightly, feeling guilt.

But who was ever happy in London? The smoggy, black air and the anger that built the dilapidated surroundings could only be this place.

"I have news for you, my friend." spoke Mr. Turpin's cold voice. It wasn't much importance to me, foolishly thinking it was about the law.

"Sir?" Mr. Bamford cocked his head to the side, trying to peer into the master's eyes.

We turned a corner, the suspense in his voice dramtically hightening.

"In order to _shield_ her from the evils in this world..." I was attentive then, wondering who in the world he could be talking about. I felt stupid then. Of course it had to be -

"I have decided to marry my dear Johanna."

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**Not proud of this chapter. I was up until three a.m. from waking up at ****nine in the morning... I was so tired, but I wanted to write it sooo bad... TwT ****It gets better. More detail later. It WILL start to make sense... hopefully...**


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